


Pretty Princess Pink

by parallelanprincess



Series: How (Not) To Raise A Yandere [2]
Category: Yandere Simulator (Video Game)
Genre: All the bad tags reference Ryoba's treatment of her husband, Ayano Aishi's Childhood, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Stockholm Syndrome, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 02:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13261248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parallelanprincess/pseuds/parallelanprincess
Summary: Ayano Aishi is growing up and making friends. Fate's finally thrown her father a bone.





	Pretty Princess Pink

**Author's Note:**

> OK so in canon, Mr. Aishi was kidnapped as a teen and forced into a marriage with his stalker. And probably forced to conceive Ayano. Therefore all the negative tags pertain to that. I can't make it more clear that the marriage is abusive and this fic mentions that abuse. 
> 
> However, it is also is about how he loves his child more than he fears his wife and how he just wants her to have a normal life. Really, this man needs help.
> 
> Also I'm pro-YanDev and support this game so y'all can take your half assed Yancrit drama elsewhere because you're making the fandom toxic and literally harassing the content creator.

Despite all the bizarre things that were set in motion the moment Ryoba set her eyes on me, I never thought I'd be looking forward to the smell of nail polish. Most men my age don't really expect much out of life. It's all to convenient to fall into routine. Live life one day at a time until it all blurs into office meetings, parent teacher conferences, and anniversaries. Count the days until retirement. Save up for your kid's college fund and periodically make vague inquiries about their grades. Don't look at other women when your wife is with you. Don't try to leave your wife's eyesight. Don't think about the poor girl buried beneath the cherry blossom tree. Take deep breaths, keep your tone civil, and make sure to close our eyes when you kiss the woman who made your life a living hell.

Ryoba took everything I had.

She only gave me one thing in return: a little girl sitting on the floor of our living room as her overly talkative friend painted her nails.

I wanted to name her Ayame originally. She was supposed to be my precious little flower, the only beautiful thing in my dark reality. I'm surprised Ryoba was willing to compromise. Then again, ever since she got pregnant Ryoba's been a lot more manageable. If this reverse postpartum depression is a gift from the gods then I really need to start making more offerings. It's hard pretending to love Ryoba.

She hugs too tightly, kisses too deeply, and presses me into the bed with more force than a woman her size should be capable of. The night Ayano was conceived is a blur of ropes, lingerie, and the bitter after taste of ketamine. I can't remember if it was our anniversary, Valentine's or if she was just feeling a little bit frisky. I do remember the positive pregnancy test lovingly presented to me a week later.

No matter the circumstances, I love my daughter more than anything. The day she came into the world was the first time that I felt hope in years. Those dark curls and big brown eyes were seared into my very soul. My fate was sealed but she had a chance. Ayano was born with the opportunity not to follow in the footsteps of all the Aishi women before her. Every day I say a prayer to whatever benevolent deity exists that my child will be normal.

Maybe not normal.

At the very least nonviolent.

I've spent most of my life worrying about her. She used to be so quiet. Detached in a way no child should ever be. Never smiling and always watching, waiting for something. Ryoba claims she's waiting for her Prince Charming and I'll be damned if let anyone else be tortured in that creepy basement.

Lately things have changed for the better. Her teachers say she participates more often. The other children don't seem to bully her as much since it's been a few months since she came home soaking wet and missing her hair bows. She asks me to buy her the latest toys and books that all the other kids seem to like. When I come home from work we sit down in front of the television and watch game shows together. On days like this, when school's out for a break and Ryoba's on assignment in God knows where, I let her bring her friends over. They're not exactly your average middle schoolers. The grocer's daughter, Midori talks a mile a minute. She's always poking around the house and inquiring about our more questionable family heirlooms. I've lost count of the times I've had to gently pull her away from the basement door.

  
Her curiosity is going to get her killed one day.

The other part of this genderbent Three Musketeers is Kuu-chan, a girl as quiet and withdrawn as Ayano. While Midori and Ayano play with a cheap dime store make up kit, Kuu plays with some portable game system only looking up when she's directly addressed.

There's a trio of preteen girls getting glitter and blush on my freshly cleaned carpet. Midori nearly eats us out of house and home whenever she visits. Kuu-chan uses Ayano's Playstation more often then she does, I'm fairly certain the growing collection of dating sims under Ayano's bed is her doing. My daughter is smiling. She's acting like a normal little girl. She's happy.

And that's enough.

**Author's Note:**

> BTW this is an old fic drabble that just needed mild edits to be post worthy. Aiming to write more this year. Please comment if you liked it.


End file.
